


The Merry Bande Visit the Riddermark

by Ithiliana



Series: Bondage 'R Us [2]
Category: Lord of the Rings (2001 2002 2003)
Genre: AU, Bondage, Comic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-14
Updated: 2009-11-14
Packaged: 2017-10-02 18:44:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ithiliana/pseuds/Ithiliana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>The Ring has never been found, and a cheeky band of hobbits has set out to make their fortunes. Inspired in April 2003 by the Sons_of_Gondor bondage challenge.</p>
    </blockquote>





	The Merry Bande Visit the Riddermark

**Author's Note:**

> The Ring has never been found, and a cheeky band of hobbits has set out to make their fortunes. Inspired in April 2003 by the Sons_of_Gondor bondage challenge.

Merry stood, rubbing his hands, just outside the tent which had been set up outside Edoras. The Annual Eorlingas Horse Faire and Mead Moote was just beginning. The green grass of Rohan was being eclipsed by tents, booths, and hordes of men and horses. Especially horses. He'd hung the special sign (with a clearly drawn picture instead of the name of the group, "Bondage 'R Us") himself.

This was the second year he'd brought his Merry Bande to the Riddermark, and he was sure they'd do much better this time around. Yes, sir, he'd learned a lot from last year. "Know ye customer," that had always been his motto.

He'd just never dealt with quite as odd a bunch as the Horselords before. The Sons of Gondor-now, they were easy. He figured it was because they spent so much time in armor. Cut off the blood supply to the brain.

Merry pulled his Master Liste out from his back pocket and scanned it.

_Bait: Sam._ CHECK.

Usually he used Frodo whose big blue eyes and vacant stare drew the warriors like bears to honey. But that was in Gondor. Here...

"Sam!" Merry yelled. "Get out here and don't forget that sack of carrots!"

Accompanied by a thumping sound, Sam appeared, hauling a bag of carrots nearly as big as he was. For some unknown reason-and frankly, Merry preferred that the reason stay unknown-horses loved Sam. He drew them like sh-, like sugar drew flies. And the Rohirrim loved their horses. More than anything.

After last year's fiasco when several Horselords had refused to be parted from their horses and had dragged them into the Bande's tent, Merry had reserved a second tent with better fittings than the first, just for the horses.

"Put the bag here, and sit on this stool," Merry ordered.

Sam obeyed.

"Be sure to tell them about the stable tent and offer to take the horses back there yourself, OK?"

"OK, Boss," Sam agreed, smiling beatifically.

Merry shuddered as he dashed back inside. He really did NOT want to know why horses loved Sam so much. After that time when he'd seen Bill the Pony nuzzling Sam's HEAD (he kept repeating to himself), Merry had sworn never to set foot out of the tent when Sam was tending to Bill or to any other horse.

Inside, Merry surveyed his domain. The cubicles were all set up, with hitching posts instead of the regular tent poles. Posts complete with iron rings. CHECK. The sparkly robes with special elf embroidery and the elven ropes were stashed away at the bottom of the Big Chests. CHECK. The Rohirrim had a problem with elves, crossing their eyes and spitting whenever they were mentioned.

Sam and Pippin had really bitched about having to give up their elven ropes, but Merry had invested in nice new sets of leather harness complete with shiny buckles, slightly adapted, of course (lots more shiny buckles than when used on horses).

Some of the leather strips were artfully draped on the hitching posts. Harder to clean than elven ropes which shed dirt and fluids, but worth it this one time.

Merry sighed in irritation when he saw that Frodo and Pippin were still wearing their regular shirts and trousers. He'd TOLD them the new costumes were only for this gig, promised them in fact, and had tried to make them understand. But, as usual, he had to do all the work.

"Come along, you two!" he ordered, grabbing each one by an ear, dragging them back to his special managerial cubicle in the back, ignoring their shrieks of pain. All free advertising, he figured.

He lined them up, made them strip, and oiled them down himself (he figured he deserved a little fun before a long night of work), and then dressed them. Tight black leather pants with slits in provocative places went on first. After he finished Frodo, he rechecked Pippin and made him take the apples out. Then came specially designed hobbit-sized leather straps with BIG shiny buckles to be worn around chests and over shoulders.

Then the final touch-Merry really prided himself on this stroke of genius as he pulled them out of the special box. Pippin pouted.

"Turn around and bend over," Merry ordered, administering a slap or two where it would do the most good. After they did, Merry carefully inserted the plugs he'd designed himself, slightly larger than normal. Pippin muttered some bad words, but Frodo wiggled happily.

"OK, boys, let me see how you look!"

They stood and turned, each sporting a gleaming horse (well, pony-sized, Merry admitted) tail in colors that matched their hair.

"Perfect," he beamed.

The night's take exceeded even Merry's expectations, more than double last year's entire profit so far, although the wear and tear on the harness (and on Frodo, Merry noted), was extensive.

And he really wished the Horselords would bathe more often and recite alliterative longline less. Apparently in the Riddermark, the smell of horse and the sound of poetry were considered to be powerfully aphrodisiac.

Late in the evening, a Horselord who was shorter, slimmer, and considerably cleaner than average appeared in the doorway.

Merry hurried forward. "Good even, sir," bowing low. "How may we serve you, er.....sir?" He offered the specially drawn menu.

He'd learned last year that pictures were easier for the Rohirrim than words because they associated reading and writing with elves. And although he had to pay for the Illustrated Menu, the cost wasn't that much because they'd left off their Sophisticated (Urban) Specials.

"You can call me Dernhelm," the Horselord said, scanning the menu.

After Dernhelm made his choice (III.C), Merry escorted him to Pippin's cubicle.

As Merry was returning to the front of the tent, an unusually tall, broad, and hairy Horselord with a messy braid shoved his way into the tent, followed by Sam. Storming down the center aisle, he knocked Merry over.

"What are a pack of Halflings doing in the Riddermark," he thundered. "Spies! Agitators! Spreaders of elf perversions!!"

Merry picked himself up, indignant, and pointed to the license that Grima, the King's Counselor, had sold him.

"Aha! You're in league with Saruman, in a plot to poison the minds of the King's men and take over his land!"

The large and noisy man began flinging open the cubicle curtains, identifying customers by name, and chasing them out.

Merry hurried after him, protesting, but was ignored.

As he came to the next to last cubicle, the curtain was opened from inside. Dernhelm stepped out accompanied by Pippin whose pants were around his ankles.

Merry blinked in surprise when he saw that Dernhelm's helmet was off, and the man's (?) long hair cascaded down below his (?) waist.

The large and noisy man stopped. "Éowyn? Éowyn, how come you here? What madness or devilry is this?"

Éowyn stepped forward, poking the large man in the chest and forcing him to retreat. "What business is it of yours if I'm coming here? You never let me have any fun, expect me to stay stuck in Meduseld, doing all the cooking and the cleaning, all that women's work..."

"But Éowyn," the large man protested, "You ARE a woman.."

"I get one night out, and you come charging in here and ruin it." She swung a fist, connected with his chin (conveniently thrust out), and knocked him over.

"Tie him up, boys!" Merry ordered, seizing his chance. Sam and Pippin, highly trained at following that order, had him harnessed, wrists, knees, and ankles, in 3.7 seconds, setting a new record. When he started roaring even more loudly, Merry deftly gagged him.

"Put him in one of the cubicles, and get Frodo, so we can figure out what to do," Merry said.

They dragged him into the nearest cubicle. Sam pulled Frodo out of the last cubicle to take care of the current problem. Within a few minutes, the roaring had died down to be replaced by ecstatic moans.

Merry turned back to Dernhelm, er, Éowyn, and bowed. "Thank you, er, my lady, for your help. Am I right in believing that you are King Theoden's niece?"

She nodded. "And that is my dear brother, Éomer, the King's heir and chief war-leader."

"Hmmm, this could be a problem. I think we'd better get out of here tonight..." Merry ordered Sam and Pippin to start packing up, then turned back to Éowyn, wondering how to best encourage her to finish things quickly.

"My lady," he began, but she interrupted him.

"It strikes me that Halflings are not trained in warfare."

"No, but, er-" Merry scratched his head. They'd never needed to be trained in warfare. Not much money in it, after all.

"Then what would have happened tonight if I had not been here?"

Merry looked at Sam and Pippin. They shrugged. He turned back to Éowyn and shrugged. "I don't know," he admitted.

"Would you consider letting me accompany you, as a bodyguard?"

"But....but...you're a GIRL," Merry protested.

"And you're a Halfling," she pointed out. "Yet we both seem to do remarkably well when pitted against Men."

Merry reflected that she was right. However. "What sort of salary would you expect?"

She smiled. "We can talk about that on the road, on the way out of Rohan."

"Very well." Merry surrendered. She had a point. And a sword. They needed to get out of here as quickly as possible.

The moans from Éomer's cubicle had died down, so he sent Sam in to peel Frodo off him.

Quick and soft as shadows, the Merry Bande plus Éowyn finished packing, slung Frodo on top of the baggage packed on Bill the Pony (just this once because he was unable to walk), and headed out of Edoras.

There was only a slight delay when two of the horses (Sam called them Hasufel and Arod, but Merry didn't even want to know how he knew their names) tried to follow Sam. Sam had to lecture them sternly to make them return to their master.


End file.
